Ominous Views of Japan's New Concrete Seawalls

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Ominous Views of Japan's New Concrete Seawalls

Following the 2011 tsunami the Japanese government began building seawalls like this one in Ofunato Bay, Iwate prefecture.

The walls, including this one in Ofunato Bay, Iwate prefecture, are up to 41 feet high and intended to hold back a tidal surge.

Walls such as this, in Ofunato Bay, Iwate prefecture, are controversial because of their ecological impact.

This wall along Ofunato Bay, in Iwate prefecture, has narrow windows allowing residents to see the ocean.

The tourism industry in Japan's northeastern coast has been hurt by the seawalls.

The Japanese government has spent around $12 billion to build walls like this one on Ryori Bay, Iwate prefecture.

The construction of seawalls like this one on Kesennuma Bay, Miyagi prefecture, have been a boon to the giant Japanese construction companies awarded government contracts.

Local residents complain that walls such as this, on Hirota Bay, Miyagi prefecture, impede their views of the ocean and cause environmental damage.

Hundreds of miles of walls have been built, including this stretch on Toni Bay, Iwate prefecture.

Fishermen complain that walls like this one on Hirota Bay, Iwate prefecture, prevent nutrient-rich runoff from the mountains from reaching the sea.

Because coastal villages have been relocated to higher ground, much of the land behind the seawalls is uninhabited.

Photographer Tadashi Ono believes walls like this one on Miyako Bay, Iwate prefecture, are a rejection of Japanese history and culture.

Some Japanese residents believe walls like this one on Miyako Bay, Iwate prefecture, are actually counterproductive because they provide a false sense of security.

Ono believes that building walls goes against the Japanese tradition of cooperating with the sea.

Throughout its history, Japan has been enriched and protected by the ocean, but now it's building walls—like this one on Taro Bay, Iwate prefecture—to keep the ocean out.

Ono believes the walls, like this one in Raga Bay, Iwate prefecture, are being "constructed just to be constructed."

Only time will tell if walls like this one in Raga Bay, Iwate prefecture, will protect the Japanese coast from future tsunamis.

In 2011, a devastating tsunami crashed into the northeast coast of Japan, destroying entire villages, killing thousands and causing a meltdown at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant. In the wake of the disaster, the Japanese government implemented a number of reforms, including relocating coastal villages to higher land and forbidding further development along the northeast coastline.

Tokyo-born photographer Tadashi Ono, who now lives in Paris, traveled to Japan’s northeast coast after the 2011 tsunami to document the destruction, and recently returned to see how the impacted areas have changed. (He took the photos while serving as artist-in-residence at L'institut Français's Villa Kujoyama in Kyoto.) He was shocked by the ominous grey walls that now line the coast. "What I’m interested in as a photographer is how they’ve totally shut out the views of the sea," Ono says. "I'm walking in the sea coast area, I want to take a photo of the coast, but I can’t see it."

Many local residents make their living in either fishing or tourism; now, both industries are under threat from the walls. Fishermen worry they will disrupt runoff from the mountains into the sea, which helps replenish the water’s rich nutrients. And how many tourists will want to visit the coast if they can’t actually see the coast? Ono blames the impetus for the massive infrastructure project on a powerful central government unresponsive to local concerns, as well as the giant Japanese construction companies who benefit from massive government contracts.

What’s more, Ono believes the walls are unnecessary. Coastal villages have already been moved to higher ground. "Before the tsunami there were towns in those areas, but now nobody lives there—it’s just rice fields or vacant land. So the seawalls protect nothing," he says. "They were constructed just to be constructed." Some people have even argued that seawalls are counterproductive, since they might provide a false sense of security, discouraging people from moving to higher ground.

On a deeper level, Ono sees the walls as an abandonment of Japanese history and culture. "Our richness as a civilization is because of our contact with the ocean," he says. "Japan has always lived with the sea, and we were protected by the sea. And now the Japanese government has decided to shut out the sea."

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